


Another Record on the Shelf

by awkwardeye



Series: Second POV [6]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Drabbles, Multi, POV Second Person, Vignette, ratings vary per chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-08-20 10:21:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 6,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8245592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awkwardeye/pseuds/awkwardeye
Summary: A collection of drabbles based on songs.





	1. Waltz (Better Than Fine) [Rey][T]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A morning with Rey
> 
> modern au  
> Song: Waltz (Better Than Fine) by Fiona Apple

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there just isn't enough rey/reader stuff in the world

“Stay in bed, waste the day.”

Rey throws a glance your way over her shoulder and shakes her head. She’s almost completely dressed and there’s sweat gathering at the nape of her neck, dampening her collar. You weave your fingers through her hair, gathering the smooth strands to tie them while she buttons her blouse. Her skin burns red and hr laughter is light when she shakes her head.

“ _ Stay _ ,” you plead, pouting playfully.

“You said it yourself; it’s a waste of time,” she replies.

“But it would make you happy.” Your hands fall to your lap when you finish tying up her hair.

“Oh, really? Sitting around in bed all day and doing absolutely nothing would make me happy?” Rey twists around to press a chaste kiss to your lips. When she pulls away, her eyes sparkle with something you can’t place. You like the way she looks at you like you’re the best thing in her world, maybe even the entire world. “It would, but not being short on rent will make me happier.”

“Fine, let’s have lunch together,” you say, wrapping your arms around her waist and pressing your body against her.

“But you don’t like the guy at the deli,” Rey says.

“Then  _ stay _ .” You kiss her neck.

“I can’t just ignore my job.”

“And me? You can ignore me?” Your fingers intertwine with your lover’s and you sigh contentedly.

“I’ll be late. Kiss me before I go?”

So you let her stand and turn around. Placing your hands on her hips, you accept her lips against your own with a coy smile. Over the sound of the fan’s humming, you can hear your neighbors’ music playing so early in the morning and the cars below making their way through light traffic. Bells toll in the distance, marking the hour and, yes, she’ll be late if she doesn’t leave this moment. You groan as she pulls away, but smile at the sight of her flushed cheeks.

“Take-out tonight?” she asks, grinning down at you.

“My choice tonight. You chose last time,” you say, smiling as Rey stumbles over the clothes she wore yesterday.

“Fine, fine, but I get to choose what movie we watch.” She slips out of your bedroom with a smug grin.

“And then we can do the ol’ hanky panky on the couch,” you call after her.

The door slams shut and there’s the noise of feet moving quickly back down the hall, maneuvering clumsily around the nonsense that litters the hallway: paintings you meant to hang when you moved in, some old boxes, a vase from your parents, and a few boxes you never got around to unpacking. Rey appears in the doorway with flaming cheeks.

“I’m breaking up with you if you  _ ever _ call it that again.”

“And miss out on the best hanky pankying of your life? As if…” You laugh at the bothered way she eyes you as if she’s conflicted, and then Rey’s gone again.

“Fine, yes, and then we’ll… hanky panky on the couch.”


	2. Tease Me [Hux][M]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A spark between strangers with one's lover near.
> 
> modern au in which kylo is a painter and hux is a poet
> 
> song: tease me by lianne la havas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's a double feature! jk jk kinda not really
> 
> it's an m rating for like two lines, but it's not super inappropriate imo

Before tonight, you didn’t hate Kylo’s galas. Of course, that was before you were forced to attend one. The dress you’re wearing fits your form almost too well and you want to rip it off, though your reflection in the mirror like windows is one swathed in elegance. But it’s not you. You can’t afford this dress or these shoes and, you’re pretty sure, you can’t afford the wine you’re drinking. No one here knows you and the soft music is more unnerving than relaxing. 

You can’t get drunk tonight, not here, not like this. Your fingers brush across the nape of your neck and your grip on the glass tightens as your eyes move slowly to land on the man speaking.

“So you’re the one he’s been raving about…” The man stares at you, his expression unreadable. 

His face is familiar, but only vaguely so, like a relative you haven’t seen in years in person. But he’s no relative, not even an acquaintance. His eyes are ice, his hands are white, and his hair shines brilliantly beneath the pale light. Though he’s relatively blank, there’s something in the set of his shoulders that hints at amusement.

“Depends on who  _ he _ is,” you reply, raising your glass to your lips and averting your gaze.

“Your artist, the one with a temper.” The man glances around, gestures at a spot behind you. “He’s standing there. I don’t think he’s noticed us.”

“What’s there to notice?” you ask, not turning to see Kylo.

“Hux,” he says, extending a hand to shake.

You take his hand, shaking it, and introduce yourself, finally meeting his eyes. For the briefest moment, your heart stops its thudding and your breath lays tangled uselessy in your throat. Your skin burns beneath his gaze that leaves you so flustered you want to turn away, but don’t because you’re both drawn into his eyes and filled with a desire to be the one to make him be the one to look away first.

“Meeting you, you’re not the star of his latest collection, but your face is,” Hux says.

“It’s about me…”

“But…” He tilts his head, his entire frame leaning toward you.

“But it’s all only the ideal,” you say, dismissively as if the words don’t tear you apart. You smile coyly and roll your shoulders, lifting your chin further into the air. “And you? He’s never mentioned you.”

“I’ve fallen briefly from grace,” Hux replies stroking his beard.

“I’d like to,” you say, not entirely joking.

“Then jump,” he says, tilting his head. “You’ll fall just as quickly.”

You stare at the man, trying to read him and failing. And before you can stop yourself you’re considering his words and their meaning and enjoying it. Jumping from Kylo’s tower sounds wonderful, but it only  _ sounds _ that way. If it was that way you wouldn’t wait up so late for him to return some nights smelling like someone else’s bed and you wouldn’t let him string you along on ambiguous promises.

“What do you do?” you ask, your eyes darting to your lover now conversing with a faceless woman.

“Poetry. Your artist illustrates for me.” He sips his own drink, steps closer to you. “What about you?”

“Why do you call him that?” You set your glass down beside your feet. “You can say his name.”

“Why don’t you say his name for me?”

“Because…” Your stomach twists just thinking of Kylo standing so close he can see you and probably hear bits of your conversation. “I don’t want to think about him right now.”

Hux pauses and for the longest moment you can see you’ve affected him. A flicker in his eyes: surprise. And then the tall man tilts his head and regards you with eyes shining with something carnal, wetting his lips. It’s been a while since you’ve met Kylo’s gaze to see that look in his eyes. There’s something else there, too, something like adoration. He opens his mouth to speak, stops, and instead steps away from you with a disbelieving grin.

“What?” You step forward, unwilling to let him go with the way he just looked at you.

“I’m leaving before I do something I regret.”

“Like what?”

“Like fuck you. Or worse: fall in love.”


	3. Your House [Hux][M]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tryst in the garden
> 
> song: your house by alanis morissette

The young master’s fiancée is a small woman who fits the description of a rose. She arrived with him, behind him, like a coveted doll newly unwrapped. Each step into the hall was careful, dainty, and her heels clicked against the tile in a way unlike that of the mistress whose tapping was always loud as she sauntered from here to there with a cigarette between her gloved fingers whenever her husband was gone. 

Cressida’s skin reminds you of water for its clearness, and her veins show clearly through it like blue webs trailing over her body. Her breasts are full, her hips round and ready for bearing the fruits of her engagement. She smelled like a garden’s dream when she passed you and you’d withered in comparison like a weed.

You try not to dwell on the lingering scent of her perfume that follows him as he follows you. From the dining hall to the garden, Armitage pulls at your hair and skirt, impatient, but playful. He reminds you of the boys your age whom you played with when you were a child. You’re still a child, though. You’re sixteen - nearly seventeen - and like to think you’re wise beyond your years whenever Armitage meets you in a quiet corner. But that’s only a thought meant to quiet your imagination. Today, you kiss the man as if he’ll disappear.

He’s only two years older than you, but he speaks as if he’s as old as your parents and when he pulls you away he acts as if he’s tainting you. And he loves it: the idea of ruining something pure. He was gone a while and he came back to you with a head filled with ambitions and his ideal war fought already and, apparently, a newfound taste for adultery.

With grass in your hair, you close your eyes and smell her on him. So you kiss him and embrace and until he smells of you and you hate yourself a bit when you hope she catches your scent when he goes to bed with her later. And you hope he doesn’t hate you for the way she’ll hate him when she knows.


	4. Dreaming of Being Alive [Ben Solo][M]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you tell ben that you love him and he doesn't know why
> 
> Song: Of All the Gin Joints in All the World by fall out boy

Sometimes, being with Ben Solo feels like protecting an old horse from everyone saying it’s only a matter of time. So you’re trying to convince yourself that this aged beast isn’t dead, and he isn’t, not yet. But he’s close to it. And he is trying to please everyone but himself, in the process tearing himself into pieces and trying to make the fragments fit, as mangled as they are.

It’s hard to miss the whispers in town, but your room is always quiet. He only visits on the nights when it rains to break the silence with muffled sighs and grunts. Today, the drum of the rain tapping the windows coupled with thunder is enough to drown out the noises you make. His body is bathed in pale light and his skin is wet, his hair dripping from the rain. Ben’s clothes lay in a sopping mess before the window. You’ll have to clean the puddle or your mother will ask questions.

Three words and it’s over. It’s not unpleasant, but the look Ben gives you as he comes down makes you feel guilty. You haven’t said anything wrong, though. You don’t think so. Above him, you’re a silhoutte and he doesn’t need to see your face to know what you’re thinking.

“You don’t mean that,” Ben says, finally.

“You know I do,” you say, laying beside him.

“How? How can you love me?” Ben’s voice is almost too loud.

“I just do,” you whisper, resisting the urge to cover his mouth to quiet him.

“Tonight, but one day you’ll hate me and you’ll hate yourself for defending me,” Ben says. He caresses your cheek and adds, “But you’ll keep defending me, won’t you? You’ll defend all the terrible things I do if you truly love me. I’ll believe you when you defend me even when you know you should hate me.”

“That’s cryptic, Ben,” you say, leaning into his touch. You can see his eyes watching you as if you’re the most darling thing in the world.

“I’m only telling you what I know.”


	5. Je Suis Comme Ça[Hux][G]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hux is a spoiled rich boy
> 
> Song: je veux by zaz

“ _ Nouveau riche _ …My stepmother would throw a fit if she saw that house,” Armitage mutters, glancing back at the house he’s talking about.

“It’s a nice house,” you say, shrugging.

“ _ Nice _ ? It’s an abomination. It’s…  _ gaudy _ .”

“And you’re a pompous bastard,” you reply.

“Literally,” Armitage says, the corner of his lips twitching.

The man watches you walk around the car his father bought him for his birthday, a dinky thing older than both of you that wheezes when it moves, and he seems almost impatient, as if you’re missing the point. Of course you are, though. 

He comes from money and you come from the middle dipping into the lower. He can tell what kind of fabric you’re wearing with a glance and whether or not it’s authentic. You can tell what flavor of ramen noodles you’re buying by the color of the pack. The point is: you don’t get what’s so wrong with his so-called  _ nouveau riche _ . Money’s money. The rich are rich.

“What?” you ask.

“Do you really think I’m a pompous bastard?” He kicks a pile of snow, muttering under his breath.

“No…” You smile sheepishly.

“Why’d you say it like that?” Armitage asks, sneering. “You know, I’m two meals away from declaring bankruptcy. I’m really not pompous, I’m just poor.”

“I already said I don’t think you are, babe,” you reply, shrugging and following him into the building.

“Yes, I know what you  _ said _ , but you didn’t mean it.” He pauses at the stairs to let you go first. He thinks you think he’s a gentleman for always letting you go first, but you know he just likes talking to your ass.

“Why would I say something I don’t mean?” Rubbing your hands together, you glance back at your boyfriend.

“Remember when you met my father?” he asks. “What was it… what did you say about him? Come on, I don’t remember.”

“I said he’s a bit stiff.” You sigh and pause on the landing, building up the will to continue until Armitage nudges you forward.

“Stiff.” He laughs. “Stiff in his pants when he saw you. The geezer’s a pervert with no understanding of the word ‘joy’.”

“And what about you? Two meals away from declaring bankruptcy my ass. We both know your father won’t let that happen.” Grinning, you hold out your hand for Armitage’s keys. “He doesn’t mind you struggling, but he doesn’t want you ruining the Hux name.”

“You know I wanted to take you to Paris this summer. I asked him for a raise in my allowance and he said it was a waste of money. He told me to get a job.” Armitage steps into the apartment ahead of you.

“You were gonna take me to  _ France _ ?” you ask, grinning. “Maybe you  _ should  _ get a job.”

“ _ Was _ , I am perfectly fine with being an unemployed freeloader, thank you.” He pauses and gazes at you, shaking his head. “But it would’ve made you happy, wouldn’t it? No one likes being poor.”

“ _ You _ make me happy,” you say, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Weren’t you just calling me a pompous bastard?” He wraps an arm around your waist and rolls his eyes. “We can do something fun, though. Go out to a fancy restaurant, visit the city, I could buy you a ring if you want.”

“That all sounds  _ really _ expensive…”

“I’m trying to please you.”

“Then just love me.”


	6. Shiver[Kylo Ren][T]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the aftermath of Tease Me
> 
> song: Shiver by Lucy Rose

“I bought that,” Kylo says, snatching a necklace from your hands.

“Fine,” you mutter, tossing the contents of your jewelry box away. “ _ Keep it _ . I don’t care.”

“I bought it for  _ you _ ,” he replies, and he tries to force a necklace back into your hand like some pathetically needy version of himself though he looks more angry than hurt.

You’re wearing one of his shirts and, as much as you hate to think about it, the scent of him lingering on it relaxes you. The makeup you wore to go out is smudged and your skin feels tight, especially around your eyes. A few minutes ago, you told him, Kylo, that you don’t want to be with him, that you love someone else more than you love him.

And you know it was cruel. And you know it was wrong. But you didn’t think he would care. You didn’t expect him to unpack your things while you packed them or to block every doorway or to kiss you over and over again while telling you you can’t go, not now, not ever, because you’re his and he is yours. Your lips are still burning from that and you touch them now as you watch him.

“I don’t understand… What went wrong for you?” He scowls down at you.

“Nothing,” you say, waving your hands. “Everything. You’re never around. You say you love me, but you didn’t notice me having an affair in plain sight.”

“Oh, I fucking noticed…” He scoffs. “Sneaking in wearing shit he bought you. Fucking me in lingerie he paid for. Kissing me wearing lipstick he gave you. Oh, I fucking  _ noticed _ .”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?” you ask.

“We hadn’t fucked in months before. It was a good thing. You weren’t bothering me.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t think you would stop loving me. God, why’d you stop loving me?

And you don’t know what to say because you don’t have an exact date or cause. No, you only have the realization that you love Hux and his red hair and his impossibly soft lips and how calming his voice can be. You love things about him you hated on Kylo. You love his frown, his wandering hands tangling with yours, the look he gets when he’s about to argue. Everything seems dangerous on Kylo and on Hux, everything is something to watch through a fond gaze.

Now that you think about it, if you’d met Hux before Kylo, you’d already be with him. His pull was stronger; Kylo’s weak. Not to say you never loved the volatile man. Kylo doesn’t like the kisses you press to his cheeks in the morning and he grumbles if you cuddle. Hux listens and wraps his arms around you. He tells you you’re intelligent and gorgeous and the way he looks at you makes you think it’s true. But you don’t know when you stopped loving Kylo and started loving Hux.

Maybe it was in his hotel room that first night after he told you he might fall in love. Adoration must have slid between the sheets with you, propped itself up beside your beating heart. Or maybe you were already out of love with Kylo before you met Hux and you were simply complacent, having grown idle.


	7. All Around Me [Kylo Ren][E]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You wake beside Kylo
> 
> song: all around me by flyfleaf  
> modern au  
> warnings: smut, smutty, smut, smut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> imagine kylo ren initiating sexy times by saying "it's time to get schwifty"  
> anyway yeah this is dirty and sinful

The shuffle of blankets moving. Your breath escapes in clouds. His fingers swipe across your thighs as they rid your body of clothing, his breath warm against your skin and stifling. He tugs you down by your hips. Plush lips skim the skin below your navel. You loosen your grip on the blanket, not caring to keep it around your shoulders.

You could’ve sworn you turned the heat on before bed. Oh, but he’s here. He says he can’t stand the heat every night as he pulls extra blankets you wouldn’t need (if he slept with the heat on) from the closet on the nights when it’s too late to catch the last train and he didn’t drive. 

A month ago, however, you weren’t waking up with him between your legs because, well, he was comfortable on the couch and he only stayed over for your roommate: something to do with work or school. Up until a month ago you communicated in polite hello’s and how are you’s. And up until a month ago you weren’t over your ex-fiance even though it’s been -what- two, nearly three years. That changed when your roommate left you alone for the night. Now, you’re together or something like that.

You try to ignore the way his eyes remind you of a feral animal and the way how your eyes seek him almost instinctually. As if it’s a necessity: filling your vision with him. You can’t deny the childish giddiness bubbling in your core for reasons other than his mouth and its proximity. It’s always a rush, waking up beside a solid body who mirrors your desires and promises silently and aloud to be there should you need him. Lately, you’ve been needing him daily.

Kylo mumbles something you don’t catch and settles with your thighs over his shoulders, spreading them apart. Expecting him to come back up, you tug impatiently at his shirt before you feel his lips press wet kisses along the inside of your thighs, leaving behind a trail of burning skin in their wake until they’re nearly… 

You feel his hand on your thigh, keeping it pressed against your torso. Your tangle cold fingers in his dark hair and you let out a strangled moan when you feel his tongue part your folds, licking a burning line straight to your clit. The vibration of his groan seem to spread through you and you try to slip further up the bed when his mouth latches onto your sex, his tongue attacking that bundle of nerves. He’s impossible to escape.

“Don’t fucking run from it,” Kylo growls against your sex, pulling you back down to his mouth and keeping you trapped by your hips.

Turning away from his eyes, you nod as your eyelids twitch. Your toes curl. You’re freezing with the blankets gone, pushed away some time ago. And suddenly you find it hard to listen to Kylo as he attacks your clit, rolling it between his lips until your breath catches in your throat and you still for the longest moment, feeling the pleasure pulse through your body like bolts of electricity all emanating from there. A ragged moan leaves your mouth, too loud in the stillness of morning as you writhe with so much force that you nearly break out of what had previously been a noncommittal grip.

Your struggle only seems to fuel Kylo. His muscles ripple beneath his skin and he laps at your pussy with a renewed fervor, growling and inhaling your scent. The wet noises his mouth makes are lewd and deafening, so loud you wonder if your roommate can literally his tongue fucking your sex through the thin walls. The springs creak as he shifts, one hand leaving your thigh to trail up your stomach beneath your shirt, bunching the fabric as it goes.

His fingers skim your nipples fleetingly and then his hand vacates you only to return to your jaw, angling your face so that you’re forced to watch him. You pull at his fingers absent mindedly, searching for something to hold onto when his tongue circles your clit again and you can literally  _ see _ him defile your cunt with his tongue nestled comfortably between your folds, the pink appendage flicking your most sensitive spot teasingly like a cat dipping its tongue briefly into its milk.

His tongue slips lower and suddenly it’s his nose on your clit while he unabashedly slurps the viscous products of your arousal so loudly you wonder if he’s doing it on purpose. The second the thought crosses your mind he hums and you can’t help the way your eyes roll or the way your hands immediately find his hair, tugging at the thick, inky strands. His face is flushed and the look in his eyes is one of promise that fills you with both excitement and apprehension.

You whimper when he pulls away, strings of your serum hanging unbroken between his tongue and your sex, and your eyes widen at the sight. He hums like he’s satisfied. The connection breaks when he licks his shining lips, grinning when your head clears enough for you to protest his teasing with coherence.

Of course, the protests die on your lips when his mouth returns unexpectedly to your sex, his tongue moving wildly and aimlessly as if he can’t decide whether he wants to get you off or taste you more. There must be something about the way you plead, whimpering his name, because he sucks your clit with enough force to make you see stars, grabbing your ass and pulling you into him and his tongue that yearns to explore and know every portion of you.

You try to muffle the noises you make, try to tell him to stop though you don’t want him to, and all you can do is whine and moan and twitch as your orgasm washes over you and he just keeps sucking and licking at your sex. You claw at his shoulders before sinking your fingers in hair and letting them rest there unsure of whether you want to push him away or pull him closer. Your body moves for you, however. Before you can stop yourself, you’re shifting away from him to no avail because he simply follows you until your back is against the headboard and all you can do is take what he gives you.

When Kylo comes up to brush his lips against your clavicle, you sigh contentedly. The noise dies on your lips when you feel his cock against your cunt, his shaft slipping against your clit. He lets you catch your breath. And then he’s slipping into you and you can’t breathe anything but the air of him, his scent, his breath, his essence. There’s nothing but Kylo. Your world closes until he’s all that surrounds you.


	8. What You Saw in Me[Hux][G]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you argue after you turn down Hux's proposal at a dinner with his parents.
> 
> song: goodbye, my danish sweetheart by mitski

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> since i did a kylo break up, i decided to do a sad hux thing

Armitage doesn’t take the news well. But that’s to be expected. He yells and he yells and he yells for hours until his throat is raw and he can’t speak over something just above a whisper without emitting a grating noise that comes from his aching throat. And then he stares and stares and his eyes grow red, but he doesn’t cry. The skin is taut and pink like he has cried already, but the gleaming doesn’t give way to tears.

“So, what, you’re trying to say you don’t love me anymore?” he asks, as if he still hasn’t made sense of things.

“That’s not it,” you say, shaking your head. “I love you, I just… I’m not ready for this.”

“And you didn’t know that before you decided to embarrass me in front of my parents?” he asks, and you know he’d be yelling if he could.

“I was going to tell you earlier, but you never gave me the chance…”

You were, you really were. You would’ve mentioned it, slipped it in, if he’d ever stopped for a moment to ask what that nervous smile had meant. And you would’ve said something sooner because you know -God, you  _ know _ \- that this is the first time he’s given his heart to someone like this because you  _ fought _ for this. But now that you’ve reached this idyllic place in your relationship,  _ you’re _ the one backing out and shaking your head. And maybe that’s for the best because there’s still something terrible in the air.

He proposed as a way of saying he was sorry. You were on a break after he’d pushed you away and away until you couldn’t hold onto him anymore because you wanted him to be happy. If his happiness is only achievable without you, you’ve always convinced yourself, you’ll step away. And you’ve done it over and over again. There’s some quality to Armitage (or at least there  _ was _ ) that makes you want to nurture him. He’s a rock, though, and not the kind that provides stability, but the boulder that teeters on the edge of a cliff while you cling…

Maybe dinner wasn’t the best place to voice your concerns, but you don’t particularly regret saying what you did.

“Explain it to me because I can’t understand,” Armitage says, sitting on the bed with his head in his hands.

“I love you,” you say.

“Do you?” He rubs the back of his neck and sighs.

“We’re not ready to get married.” You smile weakly. “You’re not made for that kind of commitment right now… You’re cold and closed off and right now you’re at this place where you take and take and you don’t give until it’s nearly too late.”

“I gave you a ring,” he replies, glaring at you.

“As a last resort after telling me you didn’t know if you wanted to be with me and then disappearing for three weeks… It’s not sincere.” You return his gaze as you move to kneel in front of him. “I love you -so much that it scares me sometimes- but it feels like we don’t know each other enough to marry each other.”

“What do you want me to do to prove you wrong?”

You stand, frustrated and tired, and walk toward the door.

“I’ll never be the person you deserve,” he says, softly, “But you’ll always be the person for me.”


	9. 09. Mr. Know-it-All [Hux][G]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux has trouble voicing his feeling
> 
> modern artist au   
> song: mr. know-it-all by young the giant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> since the last one was sad, i had to balance it out and write something less sad

His hands are always clean. Meticulous. The nails are always trimmed: pink and perfect strips of white. Paint never seems to cling to the edges of his fingers, his palms, or the flushed skin of his knuckles. Those hands amaze you whenever his lithe fingers clutch a brush, trailing perfectly groomed bristles along the page.

Your eyes cut back to his face briefly, noting the softness of his mouth usually pressed into a hard line. You can see the stress roll off of him with each brush stroke. Simply watching him like this brings to mind the memory of his soft, careful breaths whenever he lingers behind you, studying your paper over your shoulder. The sight of him makes you recall the way your heart leaps whenever he holds your hand, guiding your brush to demonstrate what you  _ should _ be doing as your mind falls to pieces and, instead, his words slink out of your ears, useless and wasted.

Today, you’re sitting with your cheek cradled in your palm, your eyes following him until he disappears just out of your line of sight. You wear a casual gaze. Like every other day, you’re not really watching his demonstration. Your head tilts to the side to quiet the creaking of your neck. The others are quiet and attentive. Though a multitude of dinky old fans whir on, the room is sweltering and your shirt clings to your skin. You hear him call your name, hearing the slight rise in his tone mixed with a sort of irritation as if he’s been addressing you for a while.

“When do we mix acrylic?” Hux asks.

“When…?” Your voice fades into nothingness. “Um, when… when we…  _ paint _ .” You drag out the last word, trying to read the man’s expression.

“And your parents pay for you to daydream for three hours a week,” Hux says, shaking his head. “As usual, your answer is a paradox as it is both right and wrong and after hearing it I’m tempted to smoke an entire pack of cigarettes at once. The correct answer is - and listen closely because even a concept as elementary as this always seems to escape you - we mix the acrylic  _ before _ we paint because it dries quickly. You can’t mix it on the paper unlike other media we’ve worked with.”

A few of the newer students toss you sorry glances, but the older ones remain impassive and bored, numb to Hux’s outburst. He’s a strict teacher despite being a student still. In fact, some of his older students have classes with him. He’s prone to ranting about artists you can never remember and a session often feels unfulfilling if he doesn’t reprimand someone almost too harshly at least once. The man is as cold as his eyes, which is no surprise seeing as to the fact that he’s always sneering.

The majority of the people here hate him, but can’t say he’s not good at what he does. Afterall, Hux comes from a renowned house in world of the arts (not that you care). But you… You’ll admit you think he’s attractive even though he’s called you a nitwit without fail once a week since your parents signed you up for his class.

You always stay after. He only stands so close when you’re alone, forgetting what it means to be professional. Hux is painfully awkward whenever you actually speak when you’re alone and even more awkward whenever he’s a moment away from kissing you. He doesn’t know how to communicate his feelings and when you do speak, it’s through a wall of glass. You count down the seconds until class ends and he’ll be close enough to kiss you, but won’t.


	10. J'ai Envie d'aimer [Kylo Ren][G]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song: La nuit n'en finit plus by petula clark  
> Modern AU  
> There's no romance here
> 
> Kylo mourns the death of his mother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sad part of tribute

He’s emotionally stunted. A textbook case of acedia. No tears, no words of sorrow, not even the slightest twitching of his lips when he gets the call. And there’s nothing written in his eyes when someone mentions spitefully that he shouldn’t even be there, where was he?

Everyone says he’s taking it so well. Everyone wants to pat him on the back and call him strong because they don’t know. They don’t see it. They can’t reach into him and pick apart every piece of him that feels like it’s rotting with him and they can’t see the perpetually forming lump in his throat. Or the coldness filling his chest. Or the sinking feeling of loneliness building in the core of him. They only see him with dry eyes, constantly there, doing what they think he should.

No one gets to see him at the end of the night when he retires to his parents’ room, his tie loosened, his hair ruined by his nervous fingers, and his cheeks red. Kylo sits on the edge of his parents’ bed, holding a book whose spine creaks when he opens it to flip through the pages. His fingers glide across the smiling face of his mother.

_ She was so alive then _ . And now she’s cold, breathless, lifeless. No more thought, no more existence. He keeps mulling over it, trying to make the pieces connect. He keeps expecting her to walk through the door to scold him for being difficult, for staying away for too long. But she won’t. And neither will his father.

He’s like Han. The boy they remember him as was, at least. So no one says he reminds them of his mother, but their gazes had lingered on him all night like they could see some piece of her in him. But he can’t catch a hint of her flame in himself.

For the first time, he’s truly alone. And he doesn’t know what to think because he always thought they’d be there, but now they’re not. Sure, there are people who care about him, but what are they in comparison to his parents? What’s a lover to a mother, a father, when that’s what he yearns for?

He’s alone.


	11. Here for the Moment [Kylo Ren][G]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song: It's Not for Me to Say by Johnny Mathis  
> Modern AU
> 
> Finding Light In Sadness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The kinder part of tribute

“But are you happy that we met?” 

“Of course I am. I love you.”

You smile at Kylo, wrapping your arms around him as well as you can.

You met on the anniversary of his mother death last year in a tiny diner, late into the night. He said it made the day brighter when he got drunk and called you a few weeks later. And then he’d apologized for calling so late, hiding the apology somewhere between calling you beautiful and asking you out.

“Do you regret meeting me when you did?” you ask.

“No, you made the day beautiful. My mother would love you for that.”


	12. No Innocence or Compromise [Rey][E]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dawn brings a desire to trade caresses
> 
> modern au  
> Song: Diana by Paolo Nutini

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because i haven't written anything about rey in so long and she's just so great

Her skin is smooth and flows as easily as water beneath your fingers. The warmth of her is comparable to a flame’s. She’s beautiful with her hair falling free and twilight’s glow about her as she descends upon you with a wicked gleam in her wide eyes.

Rey is clumsy when it comes to matters such as these, but she dives fully into them with almost too much courage for the sake of seeming more mature than she is. Still, her eyes are always filled with an innocent curiosity when your thighs part and your sex is revealed to her. With fingers prodding unabashedly (because once she’s told your body is hers to explore, she can’t be shy about it) and her pink, glistening lower lip pulled between her teeth, she’s concentrating on pleasing you.

Your hand shifts down to rest over hers, guiding her calloused fingertips to the throbbing nub that seems to home pleasure unlike any other. But there is no pleasure like any other anyway. A smile plays across your lips as a sigh escapes them. It’s best to be encouraging and responsive with her for the way her eyes light up the moment she knows she’s controlling you as much as you’re controlling her.

She kisses you as her fingers slip into your sex, her palm pressed flat against your clit, and your thighs spread farther apart. A trail of hot kisses burns in the wake of her lips from the corner of your mouth, along your jaw, down your neck. Rey sighs as though pleasing you brings her as much pleasure as she brings you. Her lips brush against a taut nipple and you jolt, that palm working slow circles your clit, her fingers curling within you.

The sun is somewhere hiding, but not with you, and you feel its heat on your skin as she pushes you over an imaginary edge.


	13. Pornofreak [Hux][M]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sleazy hotel
> 
> modern au  
> it's not based on a song, i just had the idea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayy it's dirty hux who is 18 and legal as an eagle

He’s been watching porn like it’s a Sunday cartoon since he found his father’s collection. It wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t also masturbate in the pews. And it wouldn’t be even worse if he wasn’t the pastor’s son. And it wouldn’t be so terrible if he wouldn’t say what he does when you say you’re not so sure about going down on him during his father’s sermon. Which is usually something along the lines of it being the will of all things holy that you end up on your knees in an unoccupied room not far enough to hear his father going on and on about sin.

“Do your parents ever wonder where you are?” It’s late and you’re along in a cheap motel room that smells thoroughly used.

“ _ Parent _ , and, no, my father never wonders. The Bitch does, though.” Hux is getting ready to shower. The water combined with the music nearly drowns his voice out.

“You have to stop calling her that…” You step into the bathroom, undressing, in time to see him slipping into the shower.

“And, anyway, it’s not like I actually  _ go _ anywhere.”

“We’re in a sleazy motel, Hux.”

“We’re still in town.”

You sigh and step into the shower.

Hux turns as you join him, slicking his wet hair back. He smirks at you and shifts slightly. The action immediately draws your attention to his waist and subsequently lower. Thick and flushed, his cock stands tantalizing between you. Following your gaze, he makes a small noise of satisfaction. He turns quickly.

“Feeling playful, kitten?” he asks, his amusement evident.

You wrap your fingers around his length and shrug. “Maybe.”


End file.
